Better on the Floor
by JEK623
Summary: Lydia wakes up late, and wears one of Stiles' flannels unintentionally, which causes problems for everyone.


A/N: Wow, this was a long one! First fic-slash-writing-in-general that I've written since 2013! I'm so shocked and so behind it's unreal! I saw this prompt on tumblr and I was like, this would be cute, so I tried. I'm a little rusty - what with not writing for almost two full years, so don't judge me. If you enjoy and want to see more from me, send me prompts, like and reblog. Thanks! 3 :)

At first, she doesn't realize it.

She woke up late, surprisingly, and she's running around her room, grabbing at whatever is in reach and tearing her pajamas off her body and replacing it with what she grabbed and is out the door without one glance in the mirror.

Her mother is in the kitchen waiting for her, smile on her face as she hands over a brown paper bag for breakfast, and it's so sweet that she has to pause to kiss her mother's cheek. She may not be present all of the time, but it's when she does things like this that make Lydia glad that she chose her mother through the whole custody issue.

"Hey, isn't that-" Her mother begins just as the redhead reaches the back door. When Lydia turns to look at her, her mother pauses, "Never mind. Have a good day, honey!"

Lydia smiles briefly, waves and is out the door in a flash, in her car and her speedometer is just pawing past the set speed limit when she hears a siren and catches the sight of cherry and blue lights flashing in her rearview mirror.

"Great," she mutters leaning back in her seat, elbow resting on her open window as Sheriff Stilinski approaches her car, notepad out and pen in hand. His expression goes to a note of surprise when he sees her, and he pauses before he speaks, eyes on her torso.

"So, how much do you think it'll be?" She asked, ignoring his inquiring glance, as he takes in her makeup-less features and the haphazard bun she'd pinned up in the dark, the sunglasses perched on her head, not hiding the faint violet bruising under her eyes from lack of sleep.

"Uh.. m," Sherriff Stilinski pauses, pocketing his ticket pad and pen, instead pressing his hand to her arm, "Nothing, just don't make it a habit." He gives her an amused smile, patting her arm twice before heading back to his cruiser.

She doesn't wait for him to get back in, as she spared one look at the time to see that the clock was edging toward 7:53, meaning she had seven minutes to get to school, park her car, get to her locker-

Lydia spared not another thought, instead keeping her foot planted on the gas, her car speeding along and into the parking lot just shy of 7:58.

Quickly, she slides into her parking spot, and is barely tearing the keys from the ignition and just through the doors when the 8:00 bell rings.

Immediately, she speeds down the hall, making point to flounce in her heels, ignoring the looks of surprise at her lack of makeup, instead sending them sharp smiles with a glare in her eyes.

Her friends are at her locker waiting for her, and she spares no glance as she spins her combination into the lock.

"Uh, Lydia-" It's Scott McCall's unsure voice that she cuts off.

"You guys can go on without me." She tells them, sharp edge of glass to her voice as she finally wins the fight against her lock, turning to look at all of them.

Allison has this _look_ in her eye, a slight smirk on her lips, and Scott is trying to hide a slight smile, and Stiles isn't looking at her- he's looking at the floor, a blush fading from his cheeks.

"You guys go on," Allison tells the boys softly, kissing Scott's cheek, which struck him from his stupor as he groped for Stiles' shoulder and basically walked him down the hall to their designated classroom and disappeared.

"What is everyone's issue?!" Lydia explodes the minute their backs disappear, "First my mom, then Sheriff Stilinski- long story," she pauses at Allison's raised eyebrow, "And now you guys, I mean-" She slams her locker, books she'd need for the first half of her day tucked into her arm, unleashing all of her rage and confusion on the metal door.

By now the hallways had cleared, so Lydia's outburst wasn't seen or heard- as all of her meltdowns were.

Allison, being the best friend she is, takes Lydia's hand and leads her down into the girls' bathroom instead of homeroom, all the while saying, "Did you look at what you put on this morning?"

Immediately, Lydia looked down at her chest, expecting her bra to be put on over her shirt or something, but it wasn't. It was just a gray crop top she saw.

"I don't get what the big deal is-" Lydia paused at the sight of herself in the full length mirror. Black studded boots, black jeans, gray crop top, and - _a flannel?_

Indeed, an emerald green flannel shirt, too big for her and for male stature, was hanging easily off her frame, the fabric warm and comfortable against her skin, and now that she smelled it, she knew it was Stiles'.

"Lyds-" Allison began slowly, standing next to her best friend in the mirror, "Why are you wearing Stiles' shirt?"

Lydia pauses, cocking her head to the side. The outfit was fine, why did it matter? Sure, it was Stiles' and yeah, he spent nights at her house, sometimes late into the night, research clouding their eyes, or when it all got to be too much, like that one time Allison was in the hospital or when she'd call him in the middle of the night after rousing from a nightmare, and he'd come coax her back to sleep. (And vice versa.)

"I wanted to?" Lydia plays it off cooly after a period of silence, "Is that a big deal?"

Allison opens her mouth to reply, but pauses before doing so, "No.. I just don't think that is... right?"

Her voice is a question, and Lydia is confused. So it doesn't matter..but it does?

"Lydia. Stiles likes you," Allison stares at her redhead friend in the mirror, ignoring Lydia's green eyes turning on her, biting her lip at the confession, "More than just friends, and I think that doing this makes him upset."

"If he likes me- _like that-"_ Lydia begins after a pause, "then wouldn't he _want_ to see me in his clothes?" She was unsure.

Yeah, maybe sometimes she wondered about what it'd be like to be with Stiles. Holding hands, kissing, cuddling at night, saying their first "I love yous.." All of it sent a warmth through her chest. She always wanted someone to reciprocate her love for them, and she knew Stiles could give her that.

All of a sudden, it hit her like a freight train. She liked Stiles. She liked the boy that's liked her since the _third-freaking-grade._

Oblivious to her sudden revelation, Allison continued, "I just think that it will make him more sad. He'll get his hopes up and then second guess himself. If you want him, you need to let him know before he moves on." and with that, the brunette left the bathroom, heading to first period, no doubt ready to cover for both her and Lydia, because she is actually the best friend a girl could have.

Pausing before she leaves, Lydia tucks the flannel tighter around her waist, a soft smile on her face, and with that, she left, heading for first period.

As the first periods of the day ticked by, Lydia smiled brighter as she watched people assess her bare face and flannel, not a care in the world. Obviously, this wouldn't happen again - the makeup part - but she could still have a day of rest.

The one thing that was dimming the sunshine of her day was the lack of Stiles in her life. Every time she'd catch his eye, his would dart away, a look of what she could only describe as heartbreak on his face.

She didn't realize how repellant she was to him until after school, when they'd all arranged a pack meeting, and he hadn't shown up. Even though the meeting consisted of its usual hour of issues and problems like time bombs, it was rough. Without Stiles, the dynamic was all off, and even though it lasted it's usual time, no solutions were made.

 _All over a freaking flannel,_ Lydia thought bitterly to herself as she sat in her car, just outside the Hale household after the meeting. Was it really that big of a deal?

With bitterness on her tongue, Lydia put the car in drive and pulled out of her spot, flicking on her left blinker instead of the right, turning toward Stiles' place rather than hers.

As she got closer and closer to the Stilinski household, the soft patter of rain hit her windshield and cringed. _Today was_ _ **definitely**_ _not her day._

Finally, the house came into view. She parked in the driveway, turned the car off and tore through the rain toward Stiles' front porch, keys jangling ferociously over her head as she tried to shield herself with her arms from the blinding rain that had picked up intensely since she got into the car.

When she hit the sheltered porch, she saw the door was open, and Sheriff Stilinski was pacing in the hall. When he saw her, his face lit up, "Lydia! Thank God-"

"Hello, Sheriff. Is your irritable son home?" Lydia asked, her voice poisonously sweet, "If so, I would really enjoy strangling him right now."

The sherriff chuckled, both concerned and relieved, opening the screen door for her and letting her slip inside, "Be my guest. He's been quite irritable since he'd gotten home."

She thanked the sheriff before pounding up the steps. If she needed to, she could make it to his room blindfolded, from her car to his bedroom without even stumbling. Finally, she made it to the door, and immediately tried the handle. Locked.

"Stiles!" Her voice was piercing as she pounded on the door, and she was about to call again when she heard the lock click, followed by a drowsy "come in."

When she entered, he was face-down on his bed, his head only perking up after she'd slapped him on the back of the head, "Ow!"

"What's wrong with you?!" The redhead immediately blurted, "You've ignored me all day _and_ skipped the pack meeting all over a stupid shirt?!"

Slowly, he sat up, running a hand over his face, "Lyds, it's not-"

"It's just not fair to me or the pack that you left us high and dry to come sulk-" She paused when she saw him slink back into a slouch, head in his hands. Her voice died in her throat when he looked up at her, his own eyes bruised from lack of sleep and sadness.

"I know it was dumb, but I really couldn't help it," he admitted, not looking at her, and she immediately wanted to retract her previous words. Slowly, as if approaching a rabid animal, she sat on the bed next to him, not touching him, but just sitting there.

"It's not dumb," she states quietly, and when he looks up with her, one rogue tear falling down his cheek, she gets the immediate urge to kiss him.

So she does.

It's slow and soft, and he doesn't really respond, but her hand just brushes away the loose tear, when he gently, but firmly takes her forearms and pushes her away softly.

Her eyes open to find his, searching, when he says, "Why did you do that?"

She pauses before replying. "Because I wanted to."

Stiles doesn't react like she expects. He turns his body away from her, taking a deep breath before biting out five rough words that break her heart.

"I want you to go."

Immediately, tears pool in the redhead's eyes, "Stiles-" her hand goes to press against his shoulder, but he shrugs it off, and in that moment her tears start to fall. "Stiles-" her voice is broken, and she's glad he isn't looking at her.

"I can't-" his voice cracks, so he stops and starts again, "I can't just be an on-and-off switch with you, Lydia. I like you too much. And, as dumb as it sounds, seeing you today only made me realize now that I can't be your friend anymore."

Her heart stops for a moment, "Stiles-"

"I can't convince myself that you like me, and then have you going off with someone else at the next moment, Lydia," he talks over her, "It hurts too much."

"Stiles-"

"Lydia, please." he's definitely crying now. "Please go."

But Lydia doesn't. Instead, she takes his one hand in her two small ones, and before she pulls away, she says the words. They burst from her lips so suddenly, but she doesn't want to take back these words.

"Stiles, I love you."

She feels his pulse in his wrist fade for a moment, and his breath hitch, "Lyds, please don't tease me."

Her voice is pungent with anger when she replies. "I'm not! I am in love with you, Stiles Stilinski, and it's been that way for a long time." She grips his arm and turns him around to face her, taking both of his hands in hers. Her emerald eyes fall from his tawny ones onto their merged fingers as she continues.

"I don't know when it began, but Stiles, I've felt feelings for you for a long time. Holding your hand is like second nature to me, needing to touch you like you're my lifeline. I don't know when or how, but I love you so much, that if you make me walk out that door right now, I may die of heartbreak."

He doesn't, so she continues, "I want to be a cliche with you. I want to make all of our friends make faces when I kiss you in the hall, I want to wake up every morning with you next to me and everything else. I want everything - _with you!"_

Finally, she looks back into his eyes. Shock, surprise and joy are expressed through his golden-brown eyes and he doesn't say anything. Instead, he pulls her into his arms, a warm embrace as he whispers soft words into her neck, "I love you too- and I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she strokes the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging when he starts pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on her neck, nibbling her earlobe down the column of her neck, trailing soft purple bruises down her neck.

"I love you," he states, smiling, pressing his forehead against hers, "and for the record, you look hot in my clothes-"

He pauses, smiling at her expectant look, "but?"

"But they'd only look better on the floor."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! If you did, you can send me prompts, or whatever! Have an awesome day! (Please don't hate on this fic, this is the first thing I've written since 2013, so I'm a little rusty!) Peace, love and joy, Jordan 3


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